


Melpomene

by Toffle



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toffle/pseuds/Toffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Idle time makes for active minds. Hawkes thoughts during their recovery after Demand of the Qun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melpomene

In the weeks of bed-rest that had followed their duel with the Arishok, what had come to gnaw at Hawke the most, was the simple fact that they could not laugh at their own terrible jokes.

It was an odd thing to think on, of that Hawke was sure. There were certainly other priorities that could have taken pride of place in their crowded mind. Yet here they were, clutching the blankets at their side.

After they had reached enough coherency beyond the haze of poultices and lingering healing magic, Hawke had come to realise there had been many opportunities for inappropriate comments involving impalement, and they had jumped at the chance to make one. The cost that followed had been sharp agony shooting through their stomach with each shake of laughter. Perhaps it had been a mistake.

The glares received from worried companions were strong. There was no trace of humour there.

Hawke couldn't blame them, it was never a pleasant sight watching harm come to those important to you. Too many of them had first hand knowledge of that. This was fresh.

Yet surely this was the _exact_ reason to look on the bright side? Hawke reasoned. They were alive and -mostly- well, and though there may have still been the healing remains of a puncture wound so deep it had come out through the other side of the-… Right maybe that wasn't the best chain of thought.

Hawke shifted in the wide bed. Sheets, body, thoughts; everything felt uncomfortable.   
  
Whilst there was something to be said about not being run ragged with tasks to attend to, being left somewhat alone with their own thoughts was far from pleasant. Too much time spent in idleness had given them too much time to think.

It had gradually become worse as Anders salves and medications had worn off. No longer with a brain full of fluff and fuzz, Hawke had had ample time to relive the battle over repeatedly in their memory. But that wasn't the worst of it. Not even by a stretch. Qunari tensions had been high, the battle itself had not been so much a surprise, as an expectancy.   
  
No, there were other thoughts, still fresh in their mind that beat at their weakened guard.

The space of time between their mothers death, and the Qunari battle had been too short. Far too short. There hadn't been time to mourn, not really. There hadn't been time for much of anything. It wasn't too long after the funeral, that they had returned home to find Aveline and Isabella arguing in the middle of the room. Along with everything that had followed quickly after it couldn't have been more than a week.

Hawke was left with this. Silence. Their home quiet, despite the muffled background noise of carefully plucked chords from a lute, and the occasional explosive sound of enchantment heard beyond the bedroom door.

It hurt. Everything hurt, and no one was around to ease it. A bitter thought suggested a better word might be 'left', no one remained.  
  
They had tried so hard to protect those that mattered. They'd worked hard after their father had passed, they had to pick up the slack. Someone had to continue to train Bethany, someone had to watch out for Carver, ready to take on the world as he was. And their mother, she tried so hard...

Perhaps the hole through their middle was a success in itself, Hawke thought, more honestly than they would care to admit. Isabella was safe, wherever she was. As was Kirkwall, free of the Qun that had loomed over them all, a way of life threatened upon them. Perhaps it was one success. And maybe one was enough for now.

Even so, Hawke thought, picking at the threads of the sheets. Mother was not here, there would be no one to chastise Hawke's stupidity, or fret over their health. No one who would remain at their side through the night like in a time that felt too long ago to have been real.

Leandra had been there when they were young, as they grew. Even now when, as adults, Leandra would fuss and fret. When Hawke could not care for their siblings, Leandra cared for them all; cooling fevers, working unaided to keep them fed. She was their mother, to the very end, and no amount of responsibility left to Hawke would have ever replaced that.

Whilst Hawke loved their friends, sometimes there were things only a parent could provide. The one missing figure that left their house hollow. If only they'd have arrived earlier, been quicker, known sooner… If they’d had just been  _faster_.

Speed and foresight could have saved their siblings. It could have saved their mother. It could have avoided that intimate encounter with a Qunari blade. 

Alternatively it could have made for a very disappointing performance in bed. Quick and early was hardly a desirable trait for a lover.

Hawke snorted despite it all, pressing down into the bed with a pitiful groan as pain shot through their centre, muscles tensed.   
  
Right, no more of that, Hawke decided, biting at their lip.   
  
Enjoyment was strictly prohibited. No puns, no humour, no inappropriate jokes about the situation at hand.

Simply no one could  _stomach_  it !

\---

Downstairs the sleeping mabari woke to the harsh curses and terribly concealed laughter of their master, bed ridden and clutching their stomach with mild regrets.

Sometimes it was better to laugh, than it was to cry. There were times when it was all that could keep Hawke together.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write something for FenHawke week, that is... already over.... 
> 
> Instead, I wrote something solely about Hawke. It’s really weird writing using they/them, but I wanted it gender neutral so it could be read as Marian or Garrett.
> 
> Set after Demands of the Qun, as so many of these fics are. I enjoy sad characters too much. So y’know: spoilers galore.
> 
> Edit:
> 
> Edited the chapter to make some parts read smoother, and changed the title because I just disliked it.


End file.
